


Ground Control

by Metro_Gnome



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Love Confessions, References to David Bowie, Sparring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:21:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23956813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metro_Gnome/pseuds/Metro_Gnome
Summary: It’s Michael. She shouldn’t be surprised; she knows she shouldn’t be. Nor should she feel her heart rate accelerate just slightly, or her palms get sweaty, or get this feeling in her stomach like she’s drank 14 cups of coffee, but all these things do happen and before she could realize it she’s standing up and blurting “Hi Michael!”
Relationships: Michael Burnham/Sylvia Tilly
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	1. Far above the world

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in the very beginning of season 1 so any backstory that isn't correct is just because I'm too lazy to go back and fix it. Also, clearly the writers and I are on the same brainwaves as far as Tilly's favourite song.

Sylvia Tilly has always been a fan of old Earth music. She remembers vividly, sitting on her small bed in her cluttered bedroom, tears streaming down her face, listening to music. Her older brother--who always seemed to understand Sylvia on a level neither of them understood—had played it for her after seeing her crying out of stress over a test at school. “I think you’ll like this, Via” he had said “you’ve always been an old soul”

_Ground control to Major Tom..._

Listening to the song now, in her nice quarters aboard the Discovery, thinking about all the tests she passed in Starfleet Academy to get here, her problems at the time seem minimal. However, the song never fails to bring her back. She’s brought out of her nostalgia by the door opening. Her eyes snap open. She fumbles with her earbuds. It’s Michael. She shouldn’t be surprised; she knows she shouldn’t be. Nor should she feel her heart rate accelerate just slightly, or her palms get sweaty, or get this feeling in her stomach like she’s drank 14 cups of coffee, but all these things do happen and before she could realize it she’s standing up and blurting “Hi Michael!”  
Michael blinks once, slowly.  
“Hello Tilly-“ she stops herself abruptly “Sylvia,”  
Tilly has been trying to convince Michael to call her by her first name for a few weeks now, and Michael’s slowly catching on. Every time it sends a small jolt of happiness through Sylvia. A small smile ghosts Michael’s lips.  
“What were you listening to?”  
Tilly blushes  
“Oh, um, some old Earth artist,”  
Michael’s smile widens slightly  
“I heard you singing”  
Tilly abruptly turned the same colour as her hair. She attempts to speak but all that comes out are a few gibberish sounds. She was singing?  
Michael brushes past her. Tilly is as still as a statue.  
“I love that song” said Michael from her bed  
Tilly is pretty sure she’s going to explode from all the feelings pent up in her chest.


	2. I'm floating in a most peculiar way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do they even have PADDs in discovery?? And EARBUDS??? 
> 
> Thanks to HylianEngineer for leaving a comment on chapter one and somehow magically revitalizing my love for these two.
> 
> Also I physically cannot refer to Tilly as “Sylvia” no matter how hard I try, my apologies.

If there is one thing Tilly hates most of all, it’s fitness at the earliest of early dawns (or what constitutes as dawn for a space ship that hardly sees a natural sun), when her eyes are still bleary and head still aches. However, when Micheal had suggested the day before at dinner they get in a quick sparring match before breakfast, Tilly was quick to agree. When Tilly rolls out of bed Micheal is up and ready and grinning at her (grinning by Micheal standards, at least). They silently make their way to the quiet gym. It is never really quiet on Discovery. There is always the sounds of people moving and talking and existing. You can lose track of time all to easily when mornings are electronic. It’s quieter than during the day, maybe not for lack of people but for a sleepiness that rests over the whole ship.

Today however, it’s a little bit better than usual. Today, they’re doing sparring. Tilly would usually hate this a little bit extra, because she’s rather clumsy and more scared than she should be of being hit in the face, but she’s with Micheal. Micheal’s face shows nothing but focus as she executes nearly perfect punches, and Tilly really should be focusing on not getting hit, but the way Micheal’s jawline is sharpened by the intense look of concentration on her face is entirely too distracting for her to handle. 

She gets bopped on the nose and blinks, and Micheal actually smiles as she circles around her. Tilly brings her hands up again and somewhat awkwardly shuffles along. Micheal fakes a kick and Tilly goes to block it, but Micheal surprises her with a hook to the side of her face. Tilly brings her hands up. Micheal throws another hook. This time, Tilly blocks it. She has just enough time to feel good about herself before she realizes it’s a trap. Micheal weaves her leg between TIlly’s lead leg, grabs her across her chest, and flips her to the ground. Tilly notices that she could drop her, but doesn’t. They’re soft mats, but Micheal still takes the time to make sure Tilly’s head doesn’t hit the ground. Tilly lets herself flop into the mat. It’s not over, she realizes, when Micheal doesn’t just let go, and instead keeps her contact with Tilly’s arm, and yeah, she’s currently pinned to the mat underneath Michael and should be worried about how she’s gonna get out of this and should not be worried about how hard she's blushing. 

Michael just watches her.  
“Mercy?” Tilly says hopefully  
Michael does that thing where she’s not quite smiling and not quite not smiling. No luck. Tilly sighs.  
“Come on, Sylvia.”  
Tilly notices how Michael uses her name even though she doesn’t need to, and smiles to herself.  
“Micheal…” Tilly whines, and Michael looks like she might actually let Tilly off easy.

However, Tilly has other plans.

She traps Michael’s left leg with her own at the same time as she grabs Michael’s left wrist. She savours Michaels look of surprise (which really is just slightly pursing her lips, but Tilly’s gotten good at reading her expressions) as she uses her hips to flip herself so now she’s the one laying on top of Michael. She pins Michael’s wrists, just for added affect.  
“Gotcha!” She says, sounding maybe a little more giddy than she should.   
Michael actually, genuinely laughs at that. Tilly can feel her breath on her face, and— oh, they are really really close. Tilly has to lean over her pretty far to keep her wrists pinned and oh, oh Michael’s still looking at her and she really did not think this through. 

She’s pretty sure if she leans back now Michael will definitely know something is up, but if she doesn’t lean back now she might do something very, very stupid. So, she’s stuck, trying to find a good excuse to move.  
“Um,” she starts, and it comes out a nervous whine.   
Michael is looking at her with her Michael patented unreadable expression.  
“What?” Michael asks, so very softly Tilly gets a lump in her throat.   
Tilly’s eyes flit to Michaels lips before she can stop herself.  
“We should get to breakfast. Busy day today!” She says suddenly, releasing Michael’s wrists and sitting up.  
Michael blinks, about to say something, but Tilly’s already standing up and brushing herself off. After a moment, she offers Michael her hand. Michael takes it. 

***

Michael corners her later that day as they’re both heading in different directions. There’s no life threatening plot currently going on, so Tilly has no good excuse to run away.  
“I just wanted to talk to you about this morning-“   
“Oh yeah that! Sorry about that I was just super tired and I don’t even know what happened sorry if I made itweirdIguessIwasjustreallytiredanywaysbye,” she says, her words blurring together. Michael blinks.   
Tilly takes this opportunity to run away. Michael calls after her, but she pretends not to hear. 

She avoids Michael for the rest of the day. She knows Michael tries to catch her eye, but she steadfastly avoids it. She hears Michael call her on two separate occasions, but she ignores them. She feels weird and jumpy and all she can think about is that moment, feeling Michael beneath her and-

She really should not be having these thoughts at work. 

“Hey, you ok?” A voice says and Tilly really does jump.  
It’s Paul, looking at her in concern.   
“Yeah, yes. I’m fine. Just… tired.”  
“You’ve been acting weird all day. Did something happen?”   
She shakes her head vehemently, and a strand of hair springs loose from her tight bun.   
“Nothing… nothing. Happened, I mean.”  
Paul is unconvinced, stepping back and examining her. She feels a bit like a frog about to be dissected.   
“You’ve been avoiding Michael.”  
“No I haven’t!” She says a little too quickly and a little too shrilly for it to be believable. Paul raises and eyebrow.   
“I haven’t,” she says, more quietly this time.  
“Is something… going on, between you two?”  
Tilly opens her mouth to speak, then closes it again. Then opens it- then closes. She stops her fish impression and thinks. Is something going on? Does almost kissing Michael count as something going on? She’s been kind of secretly in love with Micheal, since, like, forever, so it’s not like this should be any different.   
“Nothing’s going on,” Tilly sounds softly. It’s way more sad than she meant it to sound. Paul gives her a pitying look.   
“Oh, Tilly. Did you tell her?”  
“Tell her what?”   
Paul shrugs, kind of awkwardly.  
“How you… feel about her. Did she take it badly?”  
Tilly’s fish impression comes back in full force.  
“What? No! I didn’t- I totally don’t like Michael like that, and even if I did I wouldn’t tell her so, I mean it would ruin our professional relationship, and anyways-“  
Paul cuts her off with a shake of his head.  
“Tilly,” he says, and she knows she’s been found out.   
She is quiet. Defiantly. Or at least she tells herself that, when really its sort of shocked quiet.   
“I don’t… nothing happened. Not really. But I just can’t- I can’t stop- thinking. About her. Like, all the time. And it’s crazy, I know but sometimes she looks at me and-“  
Tilly stops, looking over at Paul, who’s regarding her with his arms crossed. He seems interested, but she realizes this isn’t his stuff. She waves her hand, as if brushing it away.   
“Anyways, never mind. I should get back to work.”   
She does. Resolutely. Paul hovers for a moment, but when he realizes she’s not looking up, he leaves. 

***

She dawdles as long as humanly possible, hoping Michael will be asleep by time she gets back to their shared room. She doesn’t know what she thinks is going to happen, but the idea of having to face Michael just seems… too much. 

She’s not in luck, because when she (quietly) opens the door, there Michael is, laying on her bed. She’s reading something on her PADD but she looks up when Tilly walks in.   
“Hey,” Michael says softly, and Tilly nods to acknowledge her.   
She keeps her eyes on the floor, thinking she’ll be overwhelmed if she looks up and sees any of the emotion Michael keeps in her eyes that only seems to come out for Tilly. She attempts to walk to her bunk and instead ends up tripping on the carpet, which sends her careening into her dresser, which in turn knocks a vase of flowers. She watches the vase twirl once, twice, and almost comically it starts to drop off the side as she can do nothing but look on in horror. 

Then, suddenly, there’s Michael, catching the vase elegantly and simply. Tilly looks up at her  
“Thanks,” she whispers meekly. Michael does her almost-smile down at her.   
“You’re welcome.” she returns the vase to it’s spot on Tilly’s dresser, “I’ve been trying to get your attention all day,” Michael states.   
Tilly gulps. Audibly.  
“Sorry, I’ve just been,” A million excuses run through Tilly’s brain at lightening speed, "really distracted.”  
“It’s okay.”  
Tilly straightens and adjusts her uniform.  
“Anyways. I should get to bed.”  
She turns to leave, but Michael catches her arm.   
“Tilly, wait.”  
Oh, last name basis. Michael seems to realize this because she starts again. “Sylvia. Did I... do something wrong?”  
Her voice is so, so soft and Tilly wants to cry.  
“No. No of course not, you did nothing wrong, at any point, it’s just—" I’m in love with you “—me. It’s me.”  
Michael doesn’t seem satisfied with this.  
“I know something’s going on. Can you tell me?”  
And Tilly wants to. So, so bad.  
“I just—“ she stops. Thinks about the time. When she tells Michael Michael will probably want to change rooms and doing that when they’re about to go to sleep doesn’t seem like the best idea, “I can… I can tell you tomorrow.”  
Michael speaks, soft and pleading.  
“Tell me now,” she looks at Tilly earnestly, “please.”  
Tilly opens her mouth to speak. Then closes it. She shakes her head.  
“I can’t, Michael.”  
Michael lets go of Tilly’s arm, and Tilly walks away.


End file.
